


Surrounded by Bronze

by enverse (soer)



Series: My Clockwork Prince [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:24:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soer/pseuds/enverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"For as long as he could remember he had always been seated in front of the window."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surrounded by Bronze

**Author's Note:**

> *loosely inspired by _The Tangerine Bear_ except that no one moves

For as long as he could remember he had always been seated in front of the window. Dressed in ethereal shades of red and gold, he was only one from a set of six, all of whom were just as elaborately clothed and had been created as carefully as he had been. They lived in a small shop, spacious yet crowded with various creations, all intricately made and never completely alone.

His creator had named him Seijuurou, but he would only ever be known by the little label that sat in front of him, titled “The Perceptive Prince”. He was the first of the Teikou Castle set, and while he had been easy to make, his creator had difficulty in designing the next character. Waiting wasn’t difficult, but feeling incomplete was a sore thing indeed.

“It’s normal,” Shigehiro from the Meikou Caravan set had told him, seated on the back of one of the carousel horses, a leftover background the creator had made some years back. “Because you were created with the image of others beside you, the feeling of being incomplete won’t go away until they’re all made. The others will feel the same as you - it happened when the creator was making our Meikou Caravan.”

“What happens when we get sold?” Seijuurou inquired.

“The creator tries to keep us all together in a set, but sometimes things don’t work out. Feeling incomplete because we’re all separated is just a twinge to me now, and only if I think about it too hard.” He was the only member of the Meikou Caravan to remain in the shop - the rest had been sold off many years ago. “I’m okay though. His love will sustain me.” Ogiwara’s eyes flickered to their creator with that last sentence, his face seemingly always fixed on the only man in motion in the shop, currently wiping down the counter.

While Shigehiro was good company, Seijuurou frequently found his eyes observing the outside world and the gears in his mind considering a life outside of the shop. It was a strange thought that neither pleased or displeased him. By the time Atsushi, dressed in purple as “The Passive Guard”, had come into being, Akashi had acquired a castle and a horse named Yukimura, both of which were constructed in the unique style that their creator was known for. Neither members of the Teikou Castle had to wait long for their companions to be designed - inspiration had struck their creator like a mountain of bricks and soon joining their ranks were Daiki “The Steadfast Watchman” smartly dressed in tones of blue and Satsuki “The Mysterious Duchess” draped in silken folds of pink. Shintarou “The Strict Butler” and Ryouta “The Dashing Knight” were created not long afterwards, in green and yellow respectively. At long last, the Teikou Castle set was complete, and was moved to be set behind reinforced glass, high on the shelf reserved for the shop’s newest displays.

Seijuurou watched as the years passed, his concept of time marked by people as they entered and left, and by the way their creator changed in time with the seasons. And he watched as each member of his set were sold one after the other until only he, Daiki, and Satsuki remained. Once more, Seijuurou found himself seated in front of the window, this time alone and without Yukimaru for company. Daiki and Satsuki were set next to Shigehiro on the bookcase behind the counter of the register, accompanied by a couple other various objects, many of them also figurines. They, unlike him, had gained the status of being untouchable. Items that were able to make their way onto that particular bookcase would never be sold, security stemming from an open display of fondness from the creator himself, sometimes after it was accepted that they would not be bought.

More years passed, and Seijuurou saw the youth of his creator leave him, converting light blue hair into a full pure white. He was getting old in age, and it was around this time that his grandson started to become a permanent presence in the shop, carrying on the craft his grandfather could no longer do and making sure everything ran smoothly. His hands were not as gentle as their creator’s but they were steady and careful, which was accepted within the community. The new generation of creations were as amiable as their maker, but since the grandson’s specialty did not lie in mimicking what was alive, the older generation did not have much new company to converse with.

Their creator’s grandson officially takes over the shop not long after his grandfather leaves the world and time carries on as it has always done in that small shop. Seijuurou watches the world outside as he has always done, and it’s when he’s being cleaned that it finally dawns on him that he remains as one of the few original five-inch figurines existing in the shop that have yet to be sold. Mingled with his creator’s clockwork buildings and creatures are the grandson’s own inanimate creations consisting of intricate flowers and windmills. On the untouchable shelf Seijuurou spies many of his old companions, kept there by the grandson’s nostalgia. It’s as he’s being held that a strange feeling dawns upon Seijuurou. It doesn’t take him long to recognize it as loneliness.

He’s set back on the same place he’s been occupying since the day he’s been created and is joined by more of the grandson’s clockwork creations as inspiration comes one after the other, and it’s when the sky changes color and soft whiteness starts to drift down from the clouds that Seijuurou begins to wonder about his fate. He’s remained unsold for so many years. Would he forever stay seated in front of the window or would the creator’s grandson move him to the untouchable shelf? If he does get a place on that wooden mahogany, it would only be for the reason that he is the last figurine remaining and not because the grandson had a particularly strong affection for him. Seijuurou doubted it would have taken so long for him to be moved, if that emotion existed.

A couple days after Seijuurou has this thought something changes. It’s a small and insignificant detail, yet Seijuurou finds himself entranced by it. _Someone stopped in front of the shop today_ , he can’t help but think in a daze. _Someone stopped in front of the shop and looked at **me**._

Seijuurou couldn’t forget how those brown eyes seemed to be glued to him, as if mesmerized. He had received such treatment before, in the early days of his creation, but none of those gazes had been as intense as the brunet’s. Those brown eyes made him feel that the human saw nothing else but him... and dangled a new thought into his head. _What if I get sold?_

It was a dangerous thought that tantalized the prince, even more so because he had only only recently become aware that he was lonely. What surprised the prince was the realization that he wanted to be sold, that he didn’t care for staying in the shop any longer than he had to. It was a feeling that had been buried in his subconscious, brought to the surface by that sudden spark of hope.

When the brunet enters the shop the next day, all the inhabitants hear him ask for the price of The Perceptive Prince. Not only does all attention suddenly focus on him, but the bated breath is released with disappointment when the brunet walks out again after hearing the price. No one quite knows what to say to Seijuurou, and many hold back their voices to avoid giving false hope. Seijuurou doesn’t bring up the matter either, but it’s impossible to deny that he feels disheartened.

The scenery outside the window no longer interests him, but the movement of the world beyond the shop is still better than the static air that lies within. Weeks have passed since the brunet entered and left the shop, and Seijuurou feels the eyes of the creator’s grandson on him, staring contemplatively. True to the title he had been given, Seijuurou knows it’s only a matter of time before he’s moved to join the others. Through observation, he found that humans grew sentimental with age, and the usually apathetic grandson was no different

But his expectations are turned on their head when someone enters the shop in a rush, their voice asking for _him_. Seijuurou almost can’t believe his ears, but the stunned silence he hears from behind him confirms that he had heard correctly. It’s bewildering to know a customer had just bypassed all of the intricate clockwork creations for which the shop was known for to ask for _him_ \- a forgotten relic of a long ago past.

It’s when he’s retrieved and placed in foreign hands that Seijuurou realizes that he has just been sold. The eyes that meet his are a warm brown, and with disbelieving eyes he recognizes the customer who had disheartened him so many weeks ago.

They had come back for him.

Seijuurou wondered if what he was experiencing counted as a dream. The moment felt too good to be true but he hoped it was not a cruel trick fabricated by his mind.

His companions bid him farewell, but reality doesn’t sink in for him until he’s brought outside into the cold snow air that he feels more alive than he has ever been in his long inanimate lifespan. Seijuurou feels warm, and he owes it all the brunet carrying him now.

He’s always been looking at the world from behind the shop glass.

Seijuurou can’t help but be excited by the prospect of seeing something new.

**Author's Note:**

> Written March 26th - April 1st, 2015


End file.
